


the beauty of the soul

by Kaywinnit



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Fan theory, spoilers for Infinity Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14553111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaywinnit/pseuds/Kaywinnit
Summary: Gamora is many things, but she is not stupid. She knows the price – a soul for a soul. To call the Soul Stone out of the void, she had to be locked inside of it; her spirit providing the power that Thanos will use to kill the universe. She is not sure if she is alive or dead, but all she knows is that she is trapped.





	the beauty of the soul

**Author's Note:**

> Definite spoilers for Infinity Wars. 
> 
> My personal favorite theory of what happened to Gamora is namely that she is trapped inside the Soul Stone. This is a character study, somewhat, as well as trying to figure out what that means.

Gamora does not so much wake up as open her eyes. 

Her last memory is that of falling, of reaching towards a snow-flecked sky and a father she could not believe loved her after all. She recalls her spine snapping, the back of her skull cracking – the warmth of her blood pooling around her head. 

She has never been much into spirituality, or the grand existential questions. They’re not relevant to her world, often – she figured that she was not going anywhere good, not with the deeds she’s done. Death is something that Gamora has always thought she would deal with when the time came. She had not truly had the time to understand her relationship to it, her desires and regrets, until her father pushed her off the cliff with tears in his stone-cold eyes. 

This place is better than expected, though not by much. A simple archway, like the type outside the temple that she remembers from her childhood, stretches to a pale sky in front of her. Endless water reaches out to horizons where the sun lingers, not quite setting. Her hair is up in the thick braids she wore a long time ago, when she was young. It makes sense, that her soul would revert to the last time it felt light – the way she was, in the hours before Thanos came. She feels weighted down, old – for a moment, she imagines the mass of her falling through the surface of this infuriatingly shallow lake, and plunging towards the center of this unknown void. 

Gamora is many things, but she is not stupid. She knows the price – a soul for a soul. To call the Soul Stone out of the void, she had to be locked inside of it; her spirit providing the power that Thanos will use to kill the universe. She is not sure if she is alive or dead, but all she knows is that she is trapped.

She sighs, and settles down, feelingly sadly furious. There is nothing to do here but wait.

\---

She has plenty of time to think.

Drax comes to mind, first. She understands his anger, his fury at what was taken from him. How that drives him out of his mind with irrational rage when he has the option to harm that being that shattered his world. But she also has grown to appreciate his humor, his oblivious silliness – the way he thinks that he can stand so still at no one can see him, even as he eats a snack. He must have been a good father to the daughter he lost; someone who, at the very least, makes people laugh. He certainly sets Mantis at ease. 

Mantis. In life, Gamora was always somewhat unsure what to do with her. Mantis was simple in a way Gamora could never afford to be – an astounding attribute, considering the things she has seen. She was always slightly on edge around her, not wanting her to see into her cracks – she regrets this, somewhat; Mantis is too sweet to know that it is more an issue with Gamora herself than Mantis. Theirs is a relationship of neutrality, that could have been a friendship, if only Gamora had been less prickly. 

Then she turns to Rocket, who she regrets not seeing, before she died. His sharp edges, tempered by his protective instinct and exasperated parental love for little Groot – she can relate. She and Rocket get along, in some regards – she doesn’t try to provoke him, unlike the others; Rocket trusts her to act rationally to balance out his madness. He understands her edges; he knows what it is liked to be poked and prodded by people with no relationship to you. She does care for Rocket; hopes that one day he settles out the bunches in his soul. Groot seems to help with that – at the very least, it gives Rocket someone to direct his anxious energy towards other than killing or weapons. 

Groot – little Groot, so different from his father. Gamora thinks the crew has raised him well, considering how deeply warped they all. If the biggest issue is his apathy, it is better than malevolent hatred or sociopathic rampages. 

Nebula, whose edges are tempered. This is one of the things Gamora regrets least. She is glad, that a relationship could be salvaged – that their differences could be set aside, that they could admit to their lonely desperation. She would hope that Nebula will not mourn, but this is unlikely – Nebula has sharp, deep emotions; the drive to murder their father, their shared connection, will only increase.

She doesn’t let herself think of Peter. Not yet. 

\---

Once upon a time, maybe she did love Thanos.

Children are impressionable – for all her intelligence, she knew she certainly was. He was safer than the option of dying under gunfire, and he did feed her better than she had been fed at any other point beforehand. He made sure she was always dressed well, and well-trained.

Still, she always thought that he mostly viewed her as a plaything, like the feisty pet he had picked out. Being sent out as his private assassin did not particularly help that view. 

It’s a surprise, to realize that in some corrupted, twisted way, Thanos did truly love her. She’s not sure how that makes her feel, besides furious that it led to her involuntary drop from a cliff, and her imprisonment in a stone that will bring about the end of the universe.

\---

She can see some events, playing out in the sky. The images are so wispy that she sometimes thinks she is imagining them. She sees people that she doesn’t know – a blonde man, with a shield. A woman, with red hair, and tears in her eyes, red smoke flickering around her shaking hands. Another man, with dark, long hair and a metal arm, wielding a gun. 

She sees them tossed aside. She can see the faint traces of desperation, the edges of feral hope. She knows what they are fighting for – the same things she fought for; love and honor, peace and joy. The existential concepts that Gamora wished she had thought more about when she was alive; the things that make life worth living.

And then, she hears the snap.

\---

“Did you do it?” she asks. Thanos is staring at her, looking oddly fragile in this alien world. 

“Yes,” he replies, and she can see him swallow.

“What did it cost?”

“Everything.”

She stares at him from across the void he condemned her to, and wonders if he understands the extent of the price. The things he used to pay it were not his to give.

It’s probably besides the point. Thanos has never really cared about other people, their thoughts and feelings. If he did, she wouldn’t be here.

He vanishes, fading into the pale orange sky. 

She closes her eyes. 

\---

She can summarize her relationship with Peter as such: he taught her to feel, and she taught him to think. 

He makes the bitter, frayed edges of her soul – her child-like soul, with its heavy braids and uncomfortable shoes – feel at peace. He makes her want to dance; use the elegant curves and muscles of her body for something besides destruction. She taught him to consider his options, to plan, to understand motives. They reached across time and space and found each other; two pinpricks of impossibility in a universe of pure absurdity.

She loves him, for the good in her he saw, and the undeniable pure heart of a man who had every reason to hate the universe, rather than want to save it. He makes her dream fragile dreams – of them leaving this life, settling down, being just Peter and Gamora, rather than Starlord and the fiercest woman in the galaxy.

Being the fiercest woman in the galaxy only got her so far. 

\---  
She doesn’t know if she’s good at love. Her mother might have been, but Gamora only has the flickering remnants of memories, rather than actual memories themselves. She mostly remembers the sunlight, the green of the trees. She rarely got to see those, once Thanos came.

Thanos wasn’t good at it; not in a way that anyone could recognize as love. His idea of it seemed to be breaking her, repeatedly. She is strong, to be sure. She is capable. Maybe there is love in that; making sure someone can kill and defend themselves. But Thanos left her abandoned; his love didn’t mean much when it came down to the choice between the life he had once spared and his foolish dream. She doesn’t consider that love, not really, even though Thanos seems to think it counts – and it did; he does have the Soul Stone.

Peter makes her want to be good at love. 

She wants to not feel like she could jump out of her skin at his gentle touch, like she isn’t wasting something by dancing with him to that music that always makes a spark light up his eyes. She wants to give into that feeling of safety, that surety that he is here for her, and nothing else. 

She wants, she wants, she wants.

\---

She feels it when Peter fades and crumbles. Something warm in the universe flickers, and then poofs out without a trace, leaving nothingness behind. 

The Soul Stone is silent. It doesn’t echo her screams back to her. Her tears make no ripples. Like every other pain in her life until she met and knew and loved Peter, her agony makes no sound.


End file.
